Bruce Nauman
"Life, Death, Love, Hate, Pleasure, Pain"
1983
Neon
Diameter: 70-7/8 in. (180 cm)
Gerald S. Elliott Collection
Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago, IL.
I'd never seen him since then. I don't know how he knew about the funeral, or even his name. The rain poured down his thick glasses, and he took them off and wiped them to see the protecting canvas unrolled from Gatsby's grave. I tried to think about Gatsby then for a moment, but he was already too far away, and i could only remember, without resentment, that Daisy hadn't sent a message or a flower. Dimly i heard some one murmur "Blessed are the dead that the rain falls on," and then the owl-eyed man said "Amen to that," in a brave voice.
We straggled down quickly through the rain to the cars. Owl-eyes spoke to me by the gate.
"I couldn't get to the house," he remarked.
"Neither could anybody else."
"Go on!" He started. "Why, my God! they used to go there by the hundreds."
He took off his glasses and wiped them again, outside and in.
"The poor son-of-a-bitch," he said.
THE GREAT GATSBY by F. SCOTT FITZGERALD
Gerhard Richter "Two Candles"
These lights remind me of how a person's life like Gatsby's can burn so bright and vibrant as these do, but a candle that burns vibrantly goes out much quicker as Gatsby's did.
LIFE, DEATH, LOVE, HATE, PLEASURE, PAIN
Bruce Nauman
"Life, Death, Love, Hate, Pleasure, Pain"
1983
Neon
Diameter: 70-7/8 in. (180 cm)
Gerald S. Elliott Collection
Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago, IL.
I'd never seen him since then. I don't know how he knew about the funeral, or even his name. The rain poured down his thick glasses, and he took them off and wiped them to see the protecting canvas unrolled from Gatsby's grave. I tried to think about Gatsby then for a moment, but he was already too far away, and i could only remember, without resentment, that Daisy hadn't sent a message or a flower. Dimly i heard some one murmur "Blessed are the dead that the rain falls on," and then the owl-eyed man said "Amen to that," in a brave voice.
We straggled down quickly through the rain to the cars. Owl-eyes spoke to me by the gate.
"I couldn't get to the house," he remarked.
"Neither could anybody else."
"Go on!" He started. "Why, my God! they used to go there by the hundreds."
He took off his glasses and wiped them again, outside and in.
"The poor son-of-a-bitch," he said.
THE GREAT GATSBY by F. SCOTT FITZGERALD
Gerhard Richter "Two Candles"
These lights remind me of how a person's life like Gatsby's can burn so bright and vibrant as these do, but a candle that burns vibrantly goes out much quicker as Gatsby's did.
Connection
Third Wall